


If you wished upon a star...Well...I'd rather you didn't.

by SherlockWolf



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 1930s, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War, Sleepy Cuddles, super mega cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 18:22:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4532457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockWolf/pseuds/SherlockWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve says something that worries Bucky, and Bucky isn't going to stop until he finds out what's bothering the most important person in his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If you wished upon a star...Well...I'd rather you didn't.

    It was late at night, and so Bucky made sure that he was quiet as he slipped his key into the lock of his and Steve’s apartment door. It opened with a creak when he pushed it, making him wince.

    It was dire that he didn’t wake Stevie. The poor kid was down for the count with yet another cold, and being the middle of December, it was Bucky’s top priority that Steve get better.

    He dropped his coat on the floor and shuffled out of his shoes before heading for their single bedroom, ready to flop in bed and pass out after a long night of “dancing”.

    The dame he’d been with was the second thought on his mind as he silently moved about their room, shucking off clothes and praying that Steve wouldn’t wake up. She’d been a nice dame, but no more special than the rest of the ones he’d dated over the years. She seemed to be bored with dancing, but as soon as Bucky got her to his favourite make-out spot in town, she went bananas. Bucky liked enthusiasm, but only to a point. And lipstick all over his face and neck was well _beyond_ that point.

    The bedside light flickered on without warning and Bucky heaved a sigh. He turned to the bed (he’d been facing the window) and found Steve wide awake, sitting up in bed and staring at him.

    Damn. He hadn't been quiet enough.

    “Buck?” Steve asked groggily, squinting at him as his eyes adjusted. Bucky gave him a smile that only Steve had the ability to draw out of him: sweet and lovesick (not that Steve was aware, of course).

“Heya, Stevie.” He said sheepishly, moving to the side of the bed and crawling in beside his best friend.

“Where’v’ya been?” Steve slurred, eyeing Bucky suspiciously as he made himself comfortable.

“Dancin’.”

“Hmm.” Steve’s eyes wandered from where they’d been fixed on Bucky’s eyes, taking in his lipstick-ridden skin.

    With speed that should’ve been entirely impossible, Steve flicked off the light, spun around so that his back faced Bucky, and pulled his share of the blankets over his head.

    It took Bucky a moment to process what had just happened, but when he did, he immediately knew that something was wrong.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“ ‘S everythin’ okay?”

“Yeah.”

By the tone of his voice Bucky knew that Steve was lying. “Come on, I know you better than that. What’s buggin’ you?”

    Steve didn’t answer for a few minutes. His breathing hadn’t evened out, so Bucky knew he was still awake. But if Steve really didn’t want to talk…well, Bucky was too damn tired to argue.

    “I wish I were a dame.”

    Steve’s whisper came unexpectedly, and it jolted Bucky out of the drowsy half-sleep he’d fallen into during their lapse in conversation.

“What?” Bucky mumbled, unsure if he’d heard Steve correctly.

“Nuthin’.”

“That sure as hell wasn’t ‘nuthin’.” Bucky snapped, turning on his side so that he could grab Steve’s shoulder and pull him around. Steve tried to struggle, but just ended up on his back tangled in blankets and peering up at a clearly disgruntled Bucky Barnes.

Steve averted his eyes as he repeated what he’d said in just as quiet of a volume as the first time.

“I wish I were a dame.”

“What in the _hell_ makes you wish that?” Bucky asked, completely surprised at Steve. There was nothing wrong with dames, of course, but for Steve to just wish for something so _big_ to be so _different_ …Bucky's whole life would be different if he didn't have Steve as his best friend.

“Told you, ‘s not important.” Steve snapped back, hiding his face under the blankets again.

“Steve. Please. You know you can tell me anythin’.”

“I know.” Steve mumbled through his pile of fabric. His words were followed by a little coughing, which reminded Bucky that he really should just let him go back to sleep. But he knew he couldn’t settle with the thought of Steve wishing away what he had without sharing why.

“Just tell me why.” Bucky pushed. If Steve would just tell him now then they could go to sleep and Steve’s health could get back on track to improvement.

Steve didn’t answer, and so Bucky tunneled his way under the blankets so that his nose was about two inches from Steve’s ear.

“Please.”

    Steve’s breath hitched in his throat. Bucky expected him to start coughing, but what he did _not_ expect was for Steve to start crying. It was one of those silent cries, when someone doesn’t want to admit they’re in pain but they are.

“Oh, geeze, Stevie. I’m sorry, okay? Just…what you said really worried me ‘s all. I just wanna help.”

“I know.” Steve croaked out, turning on his side so that he was now looking across the mattress at Bucky. His breath was shaky against Bucky’s skin, and it made him all the more worried.

“It’s just that…you come home with lipstick all over you…and I _hate_ it, Buck. It…” Steve trailed off, voice shaking, but Bucky couldn’t let him stop. Very suddenly he had realized where this was going and there was no way in hell he was going to let Steve stop there.

    Bucky reached out, taking one of Steve’s hands in his own and squeezing in encouragement. It did the trick because after a deep, rattling breath, Steve continued to whisper,

“I want to be one of those dames ‘cause I’m jealous of them. They get to touch you and be held by you in ways that I can’t, _and I hate it_.”

    The breath Bucky let out was a sigh of relief, but Steve seemed to take it as something else because he immediately launched into a string of unnecessary apologies and defenses of _“You made me tell you why”._

    Bucky knew the best way to shut him up. The hand of his that had been gripping Steve’s own wriggled free and grasped onto Steve’s shoulder instead, pulling him closer so that Bucky could fold his tinier friend into his arms. As predicted, Steve stopped babbling and froze up. Bucky nuzzled his face in the crook between Steve’s neck and the mattress and sighed again, secretly taking in the scent of Steve’s skin right next to his own.

“I love you too, Stevie.” He whispered. Steve melted at that, wrapping his arms around Bucky and gripping him as if he were the only real object on the planet.

“You do?” He whispered, sounding utterly shocked.

“ ‘Course you idiot. Always have, always will. Just thought you didn’t.”

    That was true. Bucky had been convinced that Steve saw him as no more than his best friend. But Bucky had always thought of Steve as his world, even as kids when the feelings he had toward Steve were no more than platonic. He’d always thought fondly of the tiny Brooklyn kid who was ready to take on the world in the name of what was right.

“Guess we’re both idiots.” Steve laughed lightly.

“Yeah.” Bucky laughed with him. Then he pressed the ghost of a kiss to the skin of Steve’s neck. This time Steve’s breath hitched again, but in a much better way than before.

“I really do love you, Stevie. And I’d much rather have you as you are, okay? I haven’t found a single dame I like as much as you and even if you were one’a the dames out there, some other guy’d probably beat me to you ‘cause you’re just that amazing.”

“Aww, shut up.” Steve giggled, his grip tugging Bucky a slight bit closer.

Steve ended up in a coughing fit then, after which Bucky suggested they get some sleep. Steve willingly obliged, and tried to move away to his usual sleeping position.

“Where’re you going?” Bucky teased, tightening his arms around Steve, who stopped moving immediately.

“Shouldn’t we…?” He trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence to explain his assumption.

Bucky chuckled. “Not unless you wanna. But I’m perfectly set to sleep right here. And tomorrow’s Sunday, so I don’t plan on moving for _hours_ after the sun’s up.”

Bucky could almost feel the grin that was on Steve’s face.

“G’night, Buck.” Steve whispered, snuggling closer by wrapping his legs up with Bucky’s.

“Night, Stevie.”

-end-


End file.
